Page 103 of Christmas with the Denton Billionaires

“Don’t tickle me!”

“I have to, now that you know my deep, dark secret.” He pinched her sides again, his blue eyes twinkling. “I’ll tickle you until I’m the better skater.”

Giggles turned into belly laughs as Chris tormented her under the inky black sky. This wasn’t a night she could have predicted, but damn, it was one of the best impromptu nights out she’d ever had.

If she closed her eyes, she could almost fall back into the past. Back when they were young and in love and giddy as ever. That spark was still there between them. It pulsed and throbbed on the ice rink, as though the connection had never disappeared.

And really, maybe it hadn’t.

They’d just temporarily suspended it.

Waiting for their second chance.

9

CHRIS

Thirty minutes flew by and the attendant was waving everyone in. Chris was happy to have regular shoes on again. One of the other skaters asked him for an autograph, which he gave along with smiling for a couple selfies. All the while, Mara was grinning at him. She actually blushed when someone asked for her autograph and picture as well, but she happily gave it.

As they walked back toward the community center, she asked him, “Is it always like that? With people coming up to you for pics and autographs?”

“Depends on where I am and how hard the network is pushing my image and show. Being a TV chef is a lot less glamorous than being an actor even if parts of the show are scripted. ButGingerbread Head to Headis a household name around here, so it makes sense that more people might be interested. ”

They walked in silence and had almost reached the parking lot for the community center when Mara heaved a long sigh.

“We always would close out ice-skating night with hot chocolate,” she said wistfully, as if she hadn’t seen her family in years instead of probably hours. “Too bad it’s too late to go to Sweet Stuff. They have the best.”

“Hot chocolate, huh?”

She nodded, looking up at him with a sweetness and mischief that nearly split him in two.

“All right. Let’s make our own then.” He slipped his arm over her shoulders as they walked, and she fit in the space perfectly. “I’ve got all the fixings back at my place. We can have a replacement hot chocolate tasting, to see if it surpasses Sweet Stuff’s legendary concoction.”

“Oooh!” Her eyes lit up. “A hot cocoa tasting. I am so in for this.”

He led the way to the parking lot, and she stopped as they neared the few remaining cars.

“Should I follow you? Where do you even live?”

“I’m in a short-term rental down the street. I walk here every day, so maybe you can give me a ride?”

She snorted. “You really are a New Yorker now, aren’t you?”

“I am officially a card-carrying New Yorker. But I do have a rental while I’m here.” He followed her to her car, and they slid into the front seats. The car smelled like her, hints of ginger and vanilla, which made his eyes flutter shut. The more time he spent with her, the more he wanted. It was both infuriating and intoxicating at the same time.

Inviting her back to his place was a big no-no. Helping her avert a crisis and ice skating after work was one thing. Both of those hovered on the boundary ofsimply friendly.But bringing her into his space, where his bed sat mere feet away, was asking for them to take things back into flour-on-the-ass territory.

And hell, he didn’t mind that one bit. Even though heshouldmind and was activelytryingto mind and not even remotely succeeding.

“It’s here.” Chris pointed out the brick condo tucked into a lit square in downtown Glenford. It was the most expensive place he’d found on the home share app and worth the extra money. Rooftop jacuzzi with a view of the picturesque town, which was all decked out for the holiday season, a fully stocked kitchen, and a king-size bed in a huge room with skylights. When the property manager had found out who would be staying there, they’d gone all out making sure he was comfortable. It was maybe half the size of his place in the Williamsburg neighborhood of Brooklyn, but he found it comfortable and he loved not having to drive to the show.

“Ooh. I’ve always wondered what this place looked like on the inside.” She parked, and they meandered toward the entrance, not speaking, just sending each other flirty looks.

This was the sort of shit he didn’t have back in New York. This innocent but totally sultry back-and-forth. Not to mention the history and connection that he had with Mara. Nobody else had ever come close to burrowing in like she had, not in nearly a decade of subpar dates and underwhelming television-industry hookups. Which made their reunion even more confusing.

And at this point? He wasn’t sure whether he was supposed to love or hate her. He flashed to a memory of his parents dancing in the living room to the Pretenders singing “Thin Line Between Love and Hate.” Whenever his parents would argue, which was rare, after they made up, his dad would put this song on and they’d dance around the room, singing along with Chrissie Hynde. He smiled at the memory, realizing that he hadn’t thought about his parents in years. He’d been truthful when he’d told Mara that he'd been to the cemetery, but he hadn’t truly thought about their life together in a very long time.

Once he pushed inside the condo, Mara turned into a gaping, cooing mess, and even though he’d had zero input in the interior design, he couldn’t resist showing her nearly every inch of the industrial chic condo, complete with exposed brick walls and a ridiculous number of potted plants. The tour ended in the kitchen, where he got to work on the next phase of the evening: preparing the perfect hot chocolate.

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